


I'm Sorry

by Vanyel



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Also I wrote this in like 30 minutes, Angst, M/M, Misunderstood?, So excuse me not writing the proposal itself, the world may never know, unrequited?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6797467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanyel/pseuds/Vanyel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spy does not make mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XzT-5Qaw4hI
> 
> A very good rendition of the song this is based on.

Spy was not the kind of man to make rash decisions. He led a strict and disciplined life, where not a hair was let out of place at any time. His work was based on careful planning, on knowing every move he, his team, and his opponents would make. Everything was done with a cold, calculating mindset, and that was what worked. He drew his lines and stayed in them. Instinct, impulsivity, emotion-these things meant nothing to him.

At least, he’d thought they hadn’t.

-

And then Spy had seen their Medic, and he fell in love. At least, he thought that was what it was, if love looked a lot like Superman. He read over his books again, and all signs pointed to it-the sudden heart palpitations that happened every time the man was near, the odd giddy feeling Spy got when the Medic smiled, and the sudden visions of the two of them old and retired and happy together, surrounded by baby birds - it was all textbook love.

Spy didn’t know how to handle this. Love was out of his area of strictly defined expertise.

So he did the one thing he wanted to do for once. He didn’t know if it would work, but for the first time, Spy listened to his heart instead of his head.

And it went horribly wrong.

-

He steeled himself, raising one hand and knocking solemnly on the infirmary door at eleven that night. Medic opened it,  and his face fell at the sight of his visitor.

“Spy. You again. Haven’t you caused enough commotion today?” There was thinly veiled disgust and contempt in Medic’s tone, and Spy hung his head before answering.

“I...have some things I need to say, docteur,” he began softly. “Things that I cannot end the night without getting out. May I step inside?”

Medic eyed him warily for a moment before stepping away from the door, returning to his desk and turning his back on the man stepping into the room.

Spy cleared his throat, his eyes focused on a point somewhere past Medic’s head on the far wall. “I am a man of plans. Of studied and calculated risks. I make things picture perfect, and I do everything to avoid mistakes. I do not do anything without identifying all caveats and escape routes first...or, I did not.” He swallowed thickly. “Today, I did something different. I did something reckless, and foolish, and....hopeless. Your reaction showed me my mistake that should have been obvious from the beginning.” 

Slowly, the Medic spun his chair around to face him, a look of anger and confusion on his face. “I know you are a prankster,” he began harshly, “but anyone could have seen that was too far for a joke.”

Spy’s heart stopped a moment. His face froze, before schooling itself back into a mask. “I see. A joke. I should have known that’s what it would be to you.”

“Spy?” Now Medic only looked confused. “What are you-”

“So I’m sorry that I asked you to marry me.” His voice was clipped, holding back things he didn’t know how to say. He had to keep going, no matter the look on Medic’s face-if he stopped, Spy would never be able to say it. “I’m so sorry, but.....the impulse. It was stronger than I knew how to deal with. I’m sorry that I chased you down after the battle. I’m sorry that I pulled out the ring, and asked you, and I’m sorry that I....kissed you.”

Spy raised his eyes, and Medic was almost surprised to see tears at the edges as they met his own. His voice hardened just a moment.

“I’m  _ not _ sorry that I love you.”

He had to look away, and trailed off again, voice quavering. “But I’m sorry that I told you. Now I know...” A soft sigh. “Now I know it....was wrong.”

Before Medic could pull himself together enough to respond, Spy straightened, fixing his tie. “Good night, docteur.” His voice only shook a little. He stepped back out of the room, closing the door behind him, and praying that the dim hallway lighting was enough to obscure the heartbreak on his face.


End file.
